Draco was sure he had heard the name Nicolas Flamel somewhere before, most likely from his father, but despite the desire to know who the man was, he really hadn't tried to figure it out over the Christmas Holidays, a fact which Hermione was not happy about. They had been searching for months now, but still they hadn't found so much as one mention of him in any of the books they had read so far, which had to have been at least a couple hundred at that point, not counting the ones they had just flipped through in case there was something about the man who had something to do with all of this. How could there be nothing about someone who was connected to Dumbledore and whose connection with said Headmaster made it so there was a giant three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor in Hogwarts?
The others seemed to have been thinking so as well and had all, even Hermione, begun to lose motivation in finding out what was going on. Harry was once again busy with quidditch practice two days a week and therefore wasn't around quite as much. Hermione, who was worse than anyone Draco had ever met when it came to doing something besides studying, even Theo and he himself, seemed to constantly be in the library. She was always either trying to find something about Nicholas Flamel, or she was studying for their finals exams which were still months away. The only person who really stuck by him as much as before was Ron, who really seemed to hate the library but still went if he, Hermione, or (rarely) Harry asked him to, who snapped at the "Snake Squad", as the redhead had dubbed Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle, whenever any of them said even one bad thing about any of them, who was even more persistent on getting all of them to eat than Draco was.
The insults seemed to have both died down and increased at the same time over the past months however. Before, he had been the Slytherins' main target, but now they seemed to have grown somewhat bored with it and had started picking on Ron, Neville, Hermione, Harry, and pretty much anyone else who didn't fit into their idea of "proper" witches and wizards. Of course, that didn't mean they didn't still pick on Draco, though it had grown much more subtle and more with indirect insults, that also were meant to hurt his friends. The Slytherins weren't the only ones that seemed to enjoy making Draco feel bad himself, though none of the other houses said anything about it. Their confusion, distrust and quite often just plain dislike was expressed in small sneers sent his direction, in glares out of the corners of their eyes, in "accidental" shoves that ended with him usually not so gracefully losing his books, stumbling into a wall or landing on the ground while the other students, most of them older than him, laughed and walked on without looking back.
A third-year Ravenclaw had gotten a Curse of Bogies sent his way by Ron, who had actually successfully learned it, after he had knocked Draco over, scattering his textbooks everywhere. Somehow he had not been caught, for which the young Malfoy was grateful, not just because Gryffindor seemed to lose enough points as it was and didn't need anyone hexing or cursing other students, but also he didn't want Ron to get in trouble because of him. His redheaded best friend, however, didn't seem to care in the slightest that he could get detention or lose Gryffindor house points as long as, in his words, "Those bastards leave you alone."
Nobody really did, but after that they did at least seem to stay away from Draco, Ron, Harry, and Hermione a bit more than before. The Gryffindors meanwhile, who at first had looked at him like he didn't belong in their house at all and should be thrown out, had begun to treat him like one of their own, though, Percy still tended to take points from him, Harry, and Ron for testing out charms and other spells in the Common led to the four of them beginning to play chess when they didn't have class or homework instead of practicing spells so they didn't get in any more trouble. When all four of them were in the Gryffindor Common Room at once they would often play in teams of sorts, with one person helping their partner (it certainly made it so Harry didn't lose every game they played). When it was just two or three of them together they played one-on-one games and the winner played the one who wasn't playing the previous round (or just kept playing the same person if it was just two of them, which was usually Ron and Draco).
As it turned out, Hermione was rather terrible at chess, which made it one of the few things in the world that she wasn't perfect at. Ron was overjoyed when they had discovered this, and he tended to boast about it every single time they played because he never lost to her, or any of them really. He had only been beaten in a game twice by Draco over the past six months, other than that he was unbeatable both in their dorm and in most of the rest of Gryffindor House. Hermione seemed convinced she could beat him at least once before the school year ended, and had decided to attempt it once again on the first Friday night of March while Harry was off at Quidditch practice and Draco was finishing up a Potions essay that was due the following Thursday.
"Watch your knight." Draco said off-handedly when he glanced up from his Potions book and over at the chessboard set up on the couch closest to the fireplace between two of his best friends. He quickly went back to writing the fourth paragraph of the one-and-a-half foot log essay on Wiggenweld potions he had to write, wanting to get it over with so he could move on to his other homework assignments.
"My knight is fi - thanks, Draco. Knight to B9." Hermione scowled slightly down at the board as her (or Draco's technically since she was using his set to play) second knight moved to the square she had told it to. Then she gave the blond draped over the armchair across from them a small smile and he grinned back, dipping the tip of the quill his mother had given him into the dark blue ink that filled the bottle of ink he had open.
"You're welcome, 'Mione. Try and look at each of Ron's pieces to see what each of them could do to yours before playing, it'll help you a bit." Draco said as he once again continued to write, only to be stopped mid-word by the Portrait Hole abruptly swinging open.
Harry stormed into the Common Room, immediately heading straight towards his three best friends with a both scared and angry look on his face. Draco quickly turned around in his armchair so that he was no longer lying sideways over the two armrests and placed his homework on the ground beside his feet. His second male best friend's raven hair was even more messed up than it usually was after Quidditch practice, as if he had also anxiously ran his hand through his dark curls multiple times on his way up from the pitch. Harry's emerald green eyes were darker than normal behind his round glasses, his eyebrows were scrunched tightly together, his lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and his shoulders were tense.
"Stay quiet for a second," Just as Draco was about to open his mouth to ask the raven-haired boy what was wrong Ron spoke, not looking up from the chessboard when Harry sat down heavily on the low table that stood in the middle of the half circle of armchairs and couches in front of the large fireplace. "I need to concen-" Ron broke off abruptly when he glanced Harry's way and saw the expression on his face. "What's wrong? You look terrible, mate."
Draco nodded and a frown tugged at his lips as he leaned forward slightly, fiddling nervously with a loose thread on his left sleeve. For a few short seconds Harry didn't answer the redhead, instead running his hand through his hair as he tended to do when he was nervous. "Snape is going to be the referee for the next Quidditch match." He said finally and Draco's eyes widened in shock, while Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione blinked, a look of perplexion flashing across her features.
"Snape?!" Draco demanded, his voice rising slightly in volume, causing several Gryffindors near them to look up from whatever they were doing in surprise and confusion and glance their way. "Why would he be refereeing? He has never had any interest in Quidditch." Harry shrugged slightly, the look on his face suggesting that he himself had been thinking the same thing since he had been told.
"Don't play." Hermione told Harry just seconds after Draco spoke and he glanced over at her in slight surprise.
"Say you're sick." Ron then suggested and the blond turned his gaze on him, then Harry again.
"Pretend you broke your leg." Hermione added onto the list of things their best friend could do to get out of the next Quidditch match. She had always seemed like the last person who would lie to get out of something just because someone she didn't like was involved, but, then again, she had lied to Professor McGonagall to get out of the whole troll incident, so, perhaps that wasn't true.
"Actually break your leg." Ron corrected and Draco spun around to face him in shock, his jaw dropping slightly as his silvery grey eyes widened. When the redhead saw the look the blond was giving him he simply shrugged slightly and grinned as if he hadn't just suggested his best friend hurt himself to get out of something.
"No! What? Harry can't - Snape won't be able to do anything if he's refereeing, he'll be visible the entire time, unlike in the stands. Out on the pitch a lot more people would pay attention to him than they would if he was just in sitting with the rest of the professors. If he's planning on being the referee, then he isn't planning to hurt Harry. He might be trying to protect him, maybe whoever jinxed Harry's broom the first time was someone else, someone he's trying to stop, or catch." All three of his best friends gave him slightly annoyed looks, though none of them said anything against him defending Snape, they had given up on it a few weeks ago.
"Yeah, Draco's right. Sort of. I have to play, Gryffindor doesn't have a back-up Seeker, so if I don't play… Gryffindor doesn't play at all and we automatically lose." Just as Harry finished speaking the Portrait Hole swung open again and Neville stumbled into the Common Room, almost immediately face planting on the carpet right in front of the entrance to the tower, his legs curled up strangely.
Draco jumped out of his armchair at the same time as Hermione stood up, accidentally knocking the chessboard off the couch and spilling pieces everywhere. "Hey!" Ron exclaimed when a few of his own chess pieces showered down onto his lap, the amused look that had momentarily flashed across his face at the sight of Neville, whose legs seemed to be stuck together as if glued, turning into an annoyed brunette muggleborn grimaced slightly, apologies seeming to flow from her lips seconds later and Draco pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it in his dorm-mate's direction as he spoke the counter curse to what he assumed was the Leg-Lock Curse. Neville scrambled back to his feet, his face flushed pink in embarrassment and his legs trembled beneath him as if it was difficult to stand.
"What happened?" Draco and Hermione asked at the same time, the latter of which had turned away from Ron and was now facing Neville as well, likely intending to have helped him herself judging by the fact that she was holding her wand in her right hand. She quickly slipped the slim, intricately carved stick back into her pocket and stepped towards the slightly shorter eleven year old boy, placing her hand on his arm and leading him over to the couch she and Ron had just been playing chess on.
"Z-Zabini and Parkinson." Neville answered with a slightly trembling voice. "They ran into me by the Great Hall… Zabini said he wanted to test the curse out, make sure he could do it properly before he used it on other people." Draco's hands balled into tight fists at his sides, the pattern carved into his wand digging painfully into his palm. How could they do something like that? Threatening to hurt someone and insulting someone were very different things from actually physically hurting someone as they had done.
"Go to Professor McGonagall! Tell her!" Hermione urged, her brown eyes glinting slightly as if she was tempted to do what she was telling the boy who had just been hexed by one of the people Draco used to consider one of his best friends. Neville rapidly shook his head, the look on his face showing that he was terrified that either their Head of House wouldn't believe him or that it would just cause him more trouble with the Slytherins.
"I don't want even more trouble…" He murmured, voicing what his expression already said. Draco sighed slightly and unclenched his fists slowly, moving to sit down on the table next to Harry, who had an angry scowl on his face. His emerald eyes were even darker than they had been before, anger seeming to blaze like bright flames behind his round glasses.
"You need to defend yourself against them, Neville!" Ron said from beside the boy he was addressing, placing his hand on his shoulder so that he turned to face him. His sapphire blue eyes glinted with a defensive look in them, his lips pressed into a firm, determined line. "They're used to walking all over people, but that's not a reason to lay down in front of them and make it easier for them." Draco nodded and a small, slightly sad smile tugged at his lips, trying to portray his agreeance with the redhead.
"You don't need to tell me that I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Parkinson already told me that…" Neville tried to suppress a sob, but it escaped in a sort of strangled whimper. Draco frowned and moved to sit on the couch beside the brunet, placing his hand on his other shoulder.
"Hey, don't listen to them. They're wrong. Okay? I grew up with them, and all they are are arrogant bullies who act as if they're better than everyone who really is better than them. Don't let them get to you, that's how they gain control over us." Neville looked at him with tear-filled eyes, disbelief evident on his face. Perhaps it was because Draco had never been this friendly to anyone besides Harry, Ron, and Hermione, or perhaps it was because he just didn't believe what he was saying. Either way, it hurt because he understood both, the first because he really wasn't the nicest person to most since he tended to ignore people, and the latter because he felt the same about himself after each time the same two Slytherins made fun of, or insulted, him.
"Yeah, you're worth a dozen Zabini and Parkinsons." Harry said and Draco glanced his way to see him pulling a chocolate frog out of his robe pocket and handing it to Neville who took it with a slightly shocked look and trembling hands. The raven-haired boy smiled softly, the anger that had been burning in his eyes replaced mostly by a soft, comforting warmth that Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing in people's gazes because nobody in his life had ever looked at him, or anyone else he knew, like that before Hogwarts. "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn't it? And where are Zabini and Parkinson? In stinking Slytherin."
Draco grimaced slightly at the last part, because even though most of the Slytherins in their year were terrible, the whole house wasn't filled with bullies and jerks. His aunt, Andromeda, was a Slytherin and he had quickly realized she was one of the nicest people he had ever known, a motherly figure who cared about him even though she hadn't heard from him for the whole first eleven years of his life. But the blond didn't say anything because Harry's words had made a small, weak smile tug at Neville's lips, and Draco didn't want to say anything that might make it go away again, so he stayed quiet as he the other boy slowly unpacked the candy Harry had given him.
"Thanks, guys… I think I'll go to bed now… Do you want the card, Harry? You're collecting them, aren't you?" Harry shrugged slightly in response but took the small purple card that was being handed to him as the boy giving it to him stood up and walked slowly towards the winding staircase that led up to the dorms.
The raven-haired boy smiled after him for a second and then looked down after the chocolate frog card in his hands, a slightly disappointed look flashing across his face when he saw the picture of whose it was. "Dumbledore again." He said with a small sigh and turned it over in his hands. "He was the first one that I -" Harry's voice broke off with a small gasp, his green eyes going wide behind the round lenses of his glasses as he stared at the description on the back of the card. Then he looked up at the three other first year Gryffindors that were all sitting on the couch across from him, a sudden hopeful, excited glint in his eyes replacing the shock.
"I found him!" He whispered excitedly and Draco's jaw dropped as he realized who he meant just second before he said it. "I found Flamel! I told you I'd heard his name somewhere before. It was on the train ride here. Listen: 'Professor Dumbledore's fame comes above all from his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in the year 1945, from the discovery of the twelve uses for dragon blood, and from his work on Alchemy, done together with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.'!"
Hermione sprang to her feet, an extremely excited look on her face that could rival her expression when they had gotten their marks on their mid-term tests. She was practically trembling with delight and she was smiling so wide that it seemed to be spread from one side of her face to the other. "Wait here!" With those words the brunette ran off, her untameable, long, bushy hair fanning out behind her like a banner as she took the stairs up to her dorm two at a time. Draco, Harry, and Ron all stared after her in shock for a second before glancing cluelessly at each other. Even Draco, who usually had at least some idea what the girl was thinking, didn't have a single clue as to what she could have run off to grab.
Just seconds later, however, they received an answer to that. Hermione practically flew down the stairs again, a huge, old book clutched in her arms. "I just didn't think of looking in here!" She whispered excitedly to them as she plopped back down onto the couch where she had been sitting before. "I checked this out from the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
Ron's eyes went wide in shock, his jaw dropping open. "Light?" He hissed but before he could say anything else Hermione glared at him and held up a hand to silence him. She then went on to quickly flip through the book, eyes scanning each page briefly before moving forward until she finally found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!" She murmured to herself, a grin spreading across her face as she stopped flicking through the pages and placed her index finger on the beginning of a new paragraph towards the middle of the page she had opened to.
"Are we allowed to talk now?" Ron asked in an annoyed voice, raising an eyebrow in Hermione's direction. The brunette just ignored him and continued to murmur to herself, tracing her index finger along the lines she was reading.
"Nicolas Flamel is the only known creator of the philosopher's stone!" Her voice sounded higher than usual, excitement clear in both her eyes and just face in general. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, the philosopher's stone sounded familiar, but he didn't have a clue where from. Harry and Ron both seemed confused as well, so perhaps it was normal to not have a clue what the stone was, except the two other boys tended to be a bit… oblivious at times, so maybe them being clueless didn't make it logical that he was.
"The what?" Harry, Ron, and Draco all asked at the same time, and Hermione huffed in slight annoyance, giving the last of the three a somewhat disbelieving look as if she thought he at least would know what she was talking about.
"Oh, just listen, do you guys ever read?" Draco let out an indignant scoff at that, because come on, everyone knew he read just as much as her, no matter how much he tried to hide and deny it. She pointedly did not look at him as she continued, pausing for only a brief second after his reaction. "Look here, read this." Hermione pushed the book towards Draco, her finger on the top of a paragraph, and Harry and Ron somewhat reluctantly moved to see the book as well.
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).
"You see?" Hermione said, still sounding excited though also slightly annoyed as the three gryffindor boys finished reading the two short paragraphs. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's philosopher's stone! I bet Flamel asked Dumbledore to keep it safe, since they're friends and he knew that someone was after it. That's why he wanted to get it out of Gringotts!" It made sense, really, but why would Severus want something that could make him immortal? From what Draco knew, the Head of Slytherin House didn't want such a thing, perhaps gold, but there were simpler ways to get such things than to steal such a rare thing that was so expertly and strongly protected.
"A stone that can make gold and doesn't let you die!" Harry's voice was excited as he said this, his green eyes glinting with a fascinated shimmer. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want that." Draco shrugged slightly, but said nothing in disagreement, or agreement. In this case there really wasn't any reason to.
"And no wonder we didn't find Flamel in Youngest Developments in Magic." Ron said, grinning slightly in amusement. "He's not exactly the youngest, if he's six-hundred-sixty, is he? Wait, Draco, didn't you say something about the dog guarding something that could make you immortal?" With that the redhead looked over at Draco, who blinked at him, his jaw dropping open slightly.
"I… think so. I was just joking though, I didn't think it actually would end up being something like that… Honestly, I'm surprised you even remembered I said that, that was months ago." Ron shrugged slightly instead of responding, the grin still spread across his face.
The next few days leading up to the Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor Quidditch match were unusually uneventful. The Slytherins left them alone, nothing attacked or broke into the school, Snape didn't do anything besides his regular sneering at the Gryffindors. Unfortunately, this also meant that they didn't get any new information on what was going on at Hogwarts. It also likely meant it wouldn't last because peace like that always ended up being ruined by something. With their luck Hogwarts would be attacked by a pack of werewolves on the next Full Moon. Still, being left alone was kind of nice for a change, even if it would inevitably come to an end.
The Quidditch match, as always, started at about eleven in the morning on the second Saturday of the month. The weather had grown warmer since the last match, the sky above was a brilliant blue, there was barely a cloud in sight, and a soft spring breeze was blowing. Still, despite the fact that it was the perfect day for a good Quidditch match, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were all grim and determined, their wands stored in their robe pockets in case the need arose for them to cast a curse or some other type of spell. Usually Ron and Draco would be excited, practically bouncing on their heels, and Hermione would be ignoring them while Harry just grinned in amusement, but not this time. Then again, that was the usual for when the other house's teams were playing, not when Gryffindor was playing, so logically they were acting a bit different.
The last (and first) match that the Gryffindor team had played had been the first of the year and Harry's broom had been jinxed by somebody, causing him to almost be thrown down onto the ground from hundreds of feet in the air, which would doubtlessly have killed him. This had set all of them on edge, especially because the man that three fourths of their quartet suspected to be the one responsible for it was refereeing that game. The fact that Neville Longbottom, who had been known to fall victim to Pansy and Blaise's bullying, hadn't been seen since breakfast that morning didn't exactly ease their nerves either.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis." Hermione whispered to the two boys for what felt like the hundredth time that morning as the three Gryffindors ascended the wood stairs that led up to the section of the Quidditch stands that generally only had Gryffindors sitting in it. Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes as she reminded them what the spell for the Leg-Lock curse was, though by this point the blond was pretty sure she was reminding herself more than she was him and Ron.
"I know." Ron growled from beside Draco and he glared at the shorter, brunette girl, his blue eyes glinting in clear annoyance. "Don't nag." The blond didn't even try to resist his urge to roll his silver eyes that time, scoffing slightly, because even though he agreed that Hermione really should just lay off them a bit, Ron was a bit oblivious if he didn't realize she was saying those things for herself. They knew what the plan was, the three of them had discussed it enough whenever Harry wasn't around that the plan seemed to continue to echo in his mind like Hermione was repeating certain facts they learned to be capable of fulfilling the plan, if the need arose, which Draco quite honestly didn't think it would.
"It's important! You need to remember the spell. If you mispronounce even a tiny part of it, the curse could backfire and hurt you, and potentially others!" The muggleborn snapped, though her brown eyes shimmered with a badly hidden concerned light. Ron, who Draco had considered to be relatively oblivious since he had met him, sighed slightly and his blue eyes softened, quite obviously having noticed the worry Hermione was attempting to not let show. Mentally Draco erased his assumption on the redhead's amount of obliviousness. While Ron may be rather thick and unobservant at times, in general he did notice things that others often didn't, even if he rarely showed it and made it seem as if he was rather oblivious.
"Yeah, 'Mione, we know." The youngest Weasley son said, the annoyance in his voice mostly gone leaving his tone soft and slightly apologetic.
"It's just you've reminded us of that particular fact about twenty times in the past ten minutes." Added Draco as the three pushed their way through the crowds of students so they could find seats up in the stands where they wouldn't all be squished so close together that they were practically on each other's laps like the last time, during the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin match, when they had arrived just a tiny bit later than usual. "If we have to use the curse, which I highly doubt we will since even if Professor Snape was the one behind this, which I still don't think he is, he wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything here again, especially not while being the Quidditch referee, we'll be fine. You've said the spell enough times that only a Tongue-Tying jinx would mess up me saying it properly."
Ron snorted at that and let himself practically fall onto a somewhat large empty space on the bench that would allow the three of them to easily sit down side-by-side. "A Tongue-Tying jinx is the only thing that could mess up your pronunciation on any spell, Dray, not just one you've heard said a million times." Draco rolled his eyes at his best friend's words and sat down beside him, Hermione quickly doing the same.
"Don't call me that." The blond said simply instead of agreeing or disagreeing, though there was a small tremor of annoyance in his tone that showed that he truly meant those four words. Ron frowned slightly but sighed and shrugged instead of saying anything in response to that.
"Is that Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione suddenly demanded and Draco looked away from the redhead, following the brunette's gaze in surprise and disbelief. The Headmaster never came to Quidditch matches, not unless he thought something bad would happen, because… Well, Draco wasn't exactly sure, but he assumed it was for the same reason as why his father was rarely home: he was busy, had better things to do when he wasn't required to go to meetings or anything similar.
"Why's he here? He never comes to the matches!" The young Malfoy demanded when he spotted the tall old man who stood out of the crowd of teachers like a sore thumb. His long silver hair and beard, his bright purple robes, his tall, pointed hat that was covered in what from so far away appeared to be silver specks, though Draco knew they were stars and moons from having seen the man up close the few times he was in the Great Hall at the same time as the students, which seemed rather rare for whatever reason, made him look so different than the other teachers who were much less eccentric.
"No idea, but I've never seen Snape look so angry before." Though Draco hated agreeing with Ron on anything to do with his godfather, he had to admit the redhead was correct about Severus looking angry. In fact, if you wanted a better word to describe the look on the Potions Master's face, it would probably be considered a more furious or even murderous expression than simply an angry one. "Look - they're off. Ow!" Ron yelped and jumped to his feet, turning around to face away from the match just as both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams mounted their brooms and began flying around the pitch.
Draco jumped up from his seat as well and turned to face the same way his redheaded best friend was, expecting to see Pansy or Blaise standing there with smirks and possibly with wands drawn. What he saw however wasn't at all what he assumed, instead of Slytherins he saw two first year Hufflepuffs, a boy and a girl, both with slightly panicked but determined looks on their faces. "I'm sorry!" The girl, who had red hair a few shades darker than Ron's and just about the same amount of freckles, with leaf green eyes wide and apologetic, said frantically. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, I didn't mean to step on the back of your robes! I'm sorry, we're in a bit of a rush -" She was cut off by the other Hufflepuff however before she could finish, his hand grabbing the sleeve of her robes and starting to drag her away.
"Yeah, there's some Slytherins picking on Hannah and Neville Longbottom, who for whatever reason was sitting with us Hufflepuffs today. We're getting a professor." The Hufflepuff boy with sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes called back to them as he and the girl resumed their trek towards the teachers' stand on the other end of the pitch.
"Where?!" Ron and Draco both yelled after them and the two stopped, the sandy-haired boy seemingly slightly impatient and the girl a confusing mix of apologetic and slightly happy. Before the boy, who Draco knew had been sorted just before him, could respond to them the girl faced him and hissed something they couldn't hear, because of the noise from the match and the ten foot distance between them, at him. He gave her a slightly confused look for a second before nodding and turning away again, continuing his path without the redheaded girl who turned to face them and stopped just about a foot and a half in front of Ron and Draco.
"I'll show you, c'mon." She said and then grabbed both of the Gryffindor boys' wrists, dragging them back the way she'd first come before either of them could say anything. Draco let her though, because if Pansy and Blaise, or maybe Crabbe and Goyle, or both perhaps, were doing something to Neville, or anyone else he wanted to stop them, or at the very least help those they were picking on.
It took the three first years about seven minutes to push their way through the Gryffindors and then Hufflepuffs, many of which had abandoned their seats and were just standing in the Quidditch stands, yelling a large mix of different things. Nobody paid them any attention, even when the girl shoved someone out of the way so they could get past. It was easy enough to see where the Slytherins were the moment they reached the front row of the Hufflepuff section of the stands, their dark green and silver ties and scarves stood out amongst the sea of yellow and black.
Draco immediately recognized Pansy's short dark hair, Blaise's short cropped curly black hair, Crabbe and Goyle's burly frames and Theo's pale skin and somewhat short, curly brown hair. All five of them were crowded around two others, one slightly chubby, brunet boy with a Gryffindor tie, and the other a slightly taller girl with shoulder length, wavy golden hair and a Hufflepuff tie and scarf. "Hey!" Draco yelled without really thinking and quickly walked towards the group that nobody else was paying attention to. "Leave them alone!"
All seven people looked his way as he, Ron, and the Hufflepuff girl whose name he still didn't know, approached them, the former two's hands balled into fists and anger clearly written on their faces. For a split second the blond thought he saw relief flicker across Theo's face but it was gone the second after it appeared, replaced by a mask of annoyance so genuine-looking it almost made Draco wonder if he had imagined the relief. Somehow though he didn't even consider the fact that he might have, because he had known Theo ever since his family had moved back to the UK from France, and even though he wasn't positive that he hadn't known what he truly acted like towards others, he knew what his genuine and faked expressions looked like, and could tell them apart easily. Still, he couldn't make sense of why the Slytherin would look relieved to see him when it would almost definitely result in him and his friends getting in trouble.
"Oh, look who decided to show up. What, you defend Longbottom, who's practically a squib, and Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy? Your father would be so proud." Blaise drawled, a smirk on his lips as he stepped away from Neville and the other Hufflepuff, who Draco assumed must have been the girl, Hannah, that the boy who had gone to get a professor had mentioned. Draco swallowed thickly at the sarcasm that was practically oozing from the other boy's words, and the truth behind it. His father was disappointed enough in him just because he was a Gryffindor, add defending Hufflepuffs and the not exactly strong wizards, and befriending muggleborns to all of that and his father would want to strip him of his Malfoy name, which he had in some senses already done.
"I don't care what my father thinks of me anymore." Draco was surprised at the complete and utter truth of that statement, and it seemed as if the Slytherins were as well because for a few seconds none of them came up with a come-back to that.
"Hm, well, he doesn't care about you either." Pansy finally spoke, a nasty grin on her face as she turned her glinting brown eyes on Neville again, her wand suddenly in her right hand. Draco's eyes narrowed as he noticed this and he himself pulled his wand out of his pocket, gripping it tightly as a few different jinxes and curses he could potentially use against any of the Slytherins if they made one wrong move on Neville, or anybody else, flitted through his head.
"Honestly, Malfoy, if I were you I would fear going back home this summer. From what I've heard your father won't be forgiving of you hanging around bloodtraitors and mudbloods. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't show back up next year." Blaise pulled himself out of his momentary silence and stepped towards Draco with a smirk that was even worse than Pansy's grin on his face. "In fact, you'd deserve it if he -"
Before Blaise could finish he was knocked to the ground by Ron, who had all but thrown himself at the Slytherin, effectively tackling him. Without fully intending to Draco let out a laugh of shock and disbelief. He planned to hex Pansy, or Crabbe or Goyle, but before he could even begin to raise his wand Neville did the same thing as Ron, except he threw himself at Crabbe and Goyle, neither of which went down when he did did both stumble back though and knock Pansy onto the ground, causing her to drop her wand.
Ron continued to punch Blaise in the face, an angry sneer on his face, his normally pale, freckled face flushed red as he did so. For a few seconds the Slytherin just stared up at the redhead in shock as he hit him, then he began to fight back and soon the two first years were rolling around on the ground, throwing punch after punch at each other like some sort of organized dance. Ron punched Blaise in the face, and Blaise punched him in the stomach, and so on. Draco was about to cast a Knockback Jinx at Crabbe when he saw him about to kick Neville, who appeared to be knocked out cold on the ground, but before he could he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him, causing him to freeze in place.
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle… What is the meaning of this?" Professor Sprout's voice demanded from just behind the blond gryffindor, who continued to stay frozen in place.
"Where have you been, Harry?" Hermione demanded later that evening after she had blown up at the two of them for getting themselves into trouble, only to be interrupted mid-rant by Harry, who had seemingly disappeared after the Quidditch match only to show back up with wind-swept hair and flushed cheeks, fear and anxiousness shining in his green eyes.
"We won! You won! We won!" Ron cheered before the raven-haired boy could respond, seemingly missing his disheveled and fearful look in his excitement as he clapped him on his back. "And I gave Zabini a black eye! Neville tried to get a hit in with Crabbe and Goyle, but he didn't exactly succeed. He's still unconscious, but Madame Pomfrey said he'd be fine. Everyone in the Common Room's waiting for you - we're having a bit of a party, Fred and George managed to snag some cake and drinks from the kitchen."
Harry, somewhat surprisingly, didn't seem interested at all in the fact that Ron had beat up one of the two main people they always joked about hexing or punching. Whatever had him so shook up must've been bad if the fear in them didn't subside at all with the mention of Zabini getting what he deserved. The look on his best friend's face was the only reason he didn't comment on how Ron had lost Gryffindor 25 points because of what he'd done, though technically so had all three of the Slytherins.
"That's not important right now." Harry said, sounding slightly out of breath, obviously a bit panicked. "Let's find a room where we can talk alone, then just you wait and listen to what I have to tell you…" The raven-haired boy dragged them off down the hall and then into the first empty classroom that wasn't locked (they had learned their lesson with unlocking doors at Hogwarts that were locked months ago), checking to make sure Peeves wasn't inside before closing the door behind them.
"After the match, when I was putting my broom away, I heard something, so I went to check it out on my broom. I saw Snape and Quirrell. We were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him. He asked him if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's 'Hocus Pocus' - I bet there's even more than just Fluffy guarding that stone, loads of spells probably, and Quirrell would have put up some defensive spells to ward off dark magic that Snape'll have to break through." Draco opened his mouth the moment Harry finished speaking, wanting to protest, to say that they must've been misunderstanding his godfather's motives or plans, that he wouldn't do something like that, but he couldn't. He would've blamed it on Hermione beating him to speaking first, but in reality it was more that deep down he knew that he was disagreeing with them for logicless, stupid reasons.
"You mean, the stone's only safe as long as Snape doesn't break Quirrell?" Hermione's voice was quiet, slightly scared, and even though Draco still didn't want to admit it, he knew she had a right to. If this really was his godfather, if Severus really was trying to steal something as valuable as the Philosopher's Stone, then he would succeed.
"It…" Draco started to say, his voice just barely above a whisper, but he stopped. He couldn't keep denying that there was something wrong about the way Snape was acting, it wouldn't help anything.